


Phases

by sneetchstar



Series: Gendrya Month April 2020 [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, F/M, Supernatural Elements, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23727538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneetchstar/pseuds/sneetchstar
Summary: Supernatural prompt for week 3 of Gendrya Month 2020.  Arya is a werewolf who finds her way into Gendry's back yard
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: Gendrya Month April 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690471
Comments: 27
Kudos: 147





	Phases

**Author's Note:**

> Werewolves are definitely a known thing in the world in which this AU takes place.

**-New Moon-**

_Are you sure you want that old cabin? There’s a reason it was abandoned, you know._

_You really shouldn’t be living all alone in the forest like that. You know what lurks out there._

_Make sure you lock up tight and stay indoors during the full moon._

Gendry’s friends and acquaintances meant well, but they should know by now that he does as he pleases. He had just enough money to buy the broken-down old place, someone’s holiday cabin that laid in abandoned disrepair in the forest. And living away from everyone else in the Riverlands after spending his entire life in overcrowded King’s Landing was too tempting to pass up.

So he made the financing work, with enough left over for repairs, and moved away. Alone. Between Riverrun and Fairmarket, just into the Whispering Wood. He’s close enough to either town for supplies, but far enough away to be away from crowds. Ironman’s Bay isn’t too far away either if he ever gets the urge to see the sea again.

His friends’ main concern was, of course, werewolves. He had waved them off, not really concerned, because even though they can be found all over Westeros, they are most prevalent in the North, from where the Stark family (and their curse) originates.

Gendry has never really been too worried about the werewolves. The prejudice against them in the southlands was unfair, he always thought. People were always claiming they had been bitten, and it always turned out to be false. Someone once claimed their dog was eaten, but it turned out to have been hit by a car.

 _Everyone knows werewolves don’t actually eat people_ , he had countered. Which is true. The worst that has happened, to his knowledge, is a few people were accidentally (mildly) injured for playing too fast and loose with the guidelines during a full moon. They were drunk at the time.

So here he stands, on his front porch, on his first night in his new home.

During the new moon.

No werewolves tonight.

**-First Full Moon-**

Gendry is a little disappointed during the night of the first full moon. Out of curiosity, he stays at the window – first the front, then the back – for as long as he can stay awake.

He doesn’t even hear a distant howl.

_Guideline 1: Do not venture outdoors after dark during a full moon._

Huffing in disgust with his friends and with himself for letting them put ideas in his head, he shoves his feet into his boots and walks out his front door to stand on his porch. He listens, and only hears the wind rustling the leaves overhead.

He walks down the steps and stands in what would be his front yard if his home was not in the middle of the forest.

Nothing. A beautiful, peaceful night. The wind picks up a little, ruffling his hair a bit, but there are no wildlife sounds of any kind.

“Stupid,” he grunts, then stomps back into his house. He picks up his phone and texts Hot Pie, hoping he doesn’t have his phone on silent because he _wants_ to disturb his sleep.

**-Second Full Moon-**

Gendry finds himself awake much earlier than usual, earlier than he would like. Once again, he stayed up very late, but this time it was because he was watching a movie that started late. It was a movie he has seen many times, but he sat up watching it, the edited-for-television version at that, till the small hours.

But now he is awake and he’s not sure why. He can’t help feeling that something compelled him to be awake. And he is _definitely_ awake. He closes his eyes to try to go back to sleep and they practically spring back open.

With a sigh, he swings his bare feet to the floor and goes to the window. The sky is just starting to grow light, and there are little wispy puffs of clouds dotting the pink-orange-blue-purple sky.

His eyes drift to a foreign shape at the edge of his property. It’s a small, pale form, curled in the grass.

_Guideline 2: Do not bring a werewolf into your house, even if they appear to be suffering._

“Fuck that,” Gendry says, stomping out of his room. He puts his boots on, grabs the blanket from his couch, and goes outside. “That’s just a child out there,” he mutters. “I’m not leaving a child out in the cold, werewolf or no.”

When he approaches the shivering form, curled into a ball on the frosted glass, he discovers it isn’t a child, but a woman. A petite woman, but a woman nevertheless.

He sighs, drops the blanket over her, then bends down and scoops her into his arms.

Inside, he places her on his couch, digs out another blanket for her, then sets a fire in his fireplace.

When she stirs, it is nearly noon. Gendry has wasted his morning sitting and watching over her.

_Guideline 3: Do not feed a werewolf._

He goes to the kitchen and puts the kettle on.

She sits up and looks around, confused. “You’re breaking the rules,” she says. Her voice is hoarse.

“I never cared much for rules,” he tells her from the kitchen. “Especially when they’re stupid rules.”

A few minutes later, he hands her a cup of tea. “Milk? Sugar? Are you hungry?”

“This is just fine, thank you,” she says, cradling the cup in her hands for a few seconds before taking a sip. “Why?”

He shrugs. “You were naked and shivering in my backyard,” he answers, as though it should be obvious.

“Thank you,” she says.

They finish their tea in silence, and he gives her a shirt and a pair of sweats to wear before lending her his phone to call for a ride.

**-Third Full Moon-**

His borrowed clothes had appeared on his front porch the day after the last full moon along with a note thanking him again. He was working on the tile in his bathroom, so she could have left it almost any time that day and he wouldn’t have heard her. He was disappointed he didn’t get to see her.

_Guideline 4: Do not knowingly befriend a werewolf._

Gendry wakes early again. He set his alarm this time, but he was called into wakefulness just before it sounded.

When he looks out his window, she’s there again, closer this time. He smiles.

_She found the blanket._

He still goes out to bring her inside.

She wakes a little earlier than last time, and he has her tea waiting.

“What’s your name?” he asks, regretting that he didn’t before.

“Arya,” she answers, her large gray eyes fully meeting his for the first time.

He feels a strange tug at his insides as he looks at her. She’s beautiful, a disheveled mess wrapped in blankets on his couch. He can’t look away and he can’t speak. When she finally looks down into her cup, he can only whisper, “I’m Gendry.”

_Guideline 5: Do not offer to assist a werewolf in their monthly endeavors._

“You can… you can leave some things in my shed out back. I mean, if you want to. Clothes, shoes… whatever. I can make a space for you,” he offers.

She looks at him with an expression that nearly breaks his heart. “You would do that for me?”

He answers without thinking. “Yes. I want you to know that you’re safe here.”

**-Fourth Full Moon-**

Arya is beside the shed this time, wrapped in a blanket with her clothes and shoes strewn around the area near her.

Gendry chuckles despite his best efforts, trying to picture a large wolf trying to put on clothing and shoes. _What big eyes you have, Grandmother._

“Rude,” he chides himself, gathering her things along with her. Luckily she is so tiny he can practically carry her with one arm.

“I tried,” she says when she wakes, seeing her clothing neatly folded on the coffee table and her shoes underneath. She picks up the mug of tea sitting beside them.

“I imagine it is probably difficult to manage when you don’t really have thumbs,” he says, trying for a joke.

She pauses just long enough to make him nervous. Then she dryly says, “It’s the tail that’s the real bitch.”

When he laughs, he sees her truly smile for the first time, and it makes his entire day.

**-Fifth Full Moon-**

_Guideline 6: If you suspect someone is a werewolf, do not confront them about it. Call the hotline and report your suspicions._

“Why do you keep helping me?” Arya asks this time. She’s still wrapped in the blankets on Gendry’s couch, holding her mug.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he counters, avoiding her gaze. It’s too much. Her eyes on him almost feel like a physical touch, and it is stronger every time he sees her.

“Don’t deflect,” she challenges.

He sets his mug down. “I helped you the first time because I thought you were a child. You’re so small I thought you were a child that had wandered away from her parents or something.”

“A naked child?” she asks.

“Obviously I knew you were a werewolf,” he says, rolling his eyes.

She raises one eyebrow at him. “Am I?”

He makes a noise that is half snort, half sigh. “Let’s see… you only show up the morning after a full moon, always naked, and sometimes there’s blood on your face and under your nails,” he says, pointing at her hands. “Either you’re a werewolf or a kinky serial killer. Not to mention the fact that last month you literally admitted to having a tail.”

She laughs at that, then takes a drink. “You’re not afraid of me?”

“Should I be?”

“No. Why have you continued to help me, now that you know I’m not a child?”

He thinks a minute. “Because it seems like it’s the right thing to do. It’s cold this time of year, especially before dawn. You don’t have any meat on your bones, and I don’t want you to freeze to death.”

“I wouldn’t. I’m from the north,” she says.

“Of course you are,” he replies.

“Because I’m a werewolf?”

“Because you have a northern accent.”

“ _And_ I’m a werewolf,” she says.

“Your words,” he allows. “Are you sure you don’t want any food? I’ve got some banana bread I made that’s actually edible.”

“I…” she starts, then stops, as if she’s not sure if she wants to divulge what is in her mind. “I’m still full from last night,” she quietly admits.

“Ah. Right. More for me then,” he mildly answers, and she seems to relax again. “So why do you keep coming here?”

She looks at him again, and he feels that strange something in his belly again. That something that seems to keep growing that he’s trying to either figure out or deny.

“Because you keep helping me,” she says, looking away.

He knows she’s not telling him something. “What is it?” he softly asks. “You’re not going to freak me out, whatever it is.”

“I smelled you. The first full moon after you moved here,” she whispers. “You must have gone outside.”

For some reason, Gendry’s heart is warmed by this knowledge. “I did. Just because everyone had warned me about buying this place and living out here alone. It was the full moon, and I was, I don’t know, expecting that there would be a wolf party on my lawn or something. But it was dead silent. So I went out, and stood just there,” he points.

“There was a wind that night. It blew through your hair and I caught your scent,” she says, still whispering. “I didn’t see you that night, but I had to find you. The next month, I found you. Easily. Your scent is all over this property. You… there is something that draws me here.”

“The first morning I saw you, I inexplicably woke up just before dawn. That never happened before. I… this is dumb… I kind of felt like I was compelled to wake,” he admits. “To wake and find you.”

“Compelled! That’s the word!” Arya exclaims. “I…” she trails off again, standing and gathering her things. “I have to go.” She grabs her clothes and hurries to the bathroom to change.

Gendry stands, too, confused at the sudden change in demeanor. “Arya…”

She doesn’t say anything more until she emerges from the bathroom, her emergency phone in her hand. “Yes, same place. _Yes_. Come get me, please.” She disconnects the call and looks at him. “You haven’t done anything wrong,” she assures him. “But I need to go. My brother is coming to get me. I’m going to wait on the porch. Please stay inside.”

“Will I see you next month?” he asks, hating how desperate he sounds, but also wanting to ask if he can see her before the next full moon.

“Probably,” she answers. Then she walks past him, pausing briefly beside him to reach up and lightly touch his cheek with her fingertips. 

-Sixth Full Moon-

_Guideline 7: Do not approach a werewolf while they are in their wolf form._

Gendry barely sleeps that night, worried that Arya won’t be there in the morning, her cryptic “probably” still sounding in his brain.

Just after 4:00 a.m., something snaps in his mind, and he flips the blankets back, throws some warmer clothes on, and heads outside. He hopes to stay out of sight, but he isn’t sure how well he’ll be able to hide from a werewolf.

Especially one who can apparently smell him keenly enough that she could find his house.

He doesn’t see her yet, but he waits. He waits more patiently than he would have thought himself capable.

Because he’s waiting for her.

However, he gets more than he anticipated when _she_ sneaks up on _him_.

He doesn’t even hear her approach. One second he is alone, and a second later he hears a growl behind him.

Gendry jumps in surprise, turning around to stare into the face of a very large, gray wolf. “Arya,” he whispers. It comes out almost reverently. He knows it’s her. It has to be. He takes a step closer.

For being such a small human, she is a remarkably large wolf. But that is the way of things. Werewolves are just larger than regular wolves.

Unthinking, he slowly lifts his hand. She growls again. He stops moving, and suddenly he’s not sure what to do. “Arya. It’s me,” he says. He doesn’t even know if she can understand him.

He pulls the knit beanie from his head and tosses it towards her. She lowers her head and smells it, nosing at it as she does so.

Then she leaps.

Gendry is frozen in place, momentarily terrified. A huge beast with very sharp teeth is flying at him and because he is so busy thinking that there may be a good reason for Guideline Number Seven that he doesn’t notice her tail is wagging.

He grunts as he hits the ground, pain like knives shooting through his chest as his lungs seize up and refuse to let air in our out. He gapes like a fish and gropes with his hands for a few helpless seconds until the air whooshes back and he can breathe again.

It is then that he notices the wolf standing over him is _licking his face_. “Arya,” he manages. “Yes, hello,” he says, laughing now. His hands find her soft fur and delve into it. It is thick and soft and so, so warm, and while he is tempted to push his face into her plush fur, he resists.

As the sky begins to grow light, she suddenly freezes. He looks up at her and can see her gray eyes looking back at him for a moment. She steps away from him, off to the side, where she heavily sits.

_You don’t have to watch. I understand if you can’t._

He doesn’t know where the thought comes from, but he knows _he_ didn’t think it. He sits up and turns to face her.

Arya raises her head, howls once, then fully collapses to the ground, on her belly. A moment later, she rolls to her side.

Gendry watches, transfixed, as her body tenses, then contracts. She curls tighter into herself, her body shrinking down as her fur gradually disappears and her paws slowly become hands and feet. It is a fascinating and frightening thing to witness.

It also feels extremely intimate. He knows he is seeing her at her most vulnerable, in this time of transition, and he is keenly aware that she is _letting_ him.

It seems to take a very long time, yet also no time at all. When she is fully back to human form, she opens her sleepy eyes, looks straight at him, and whispers, “Gendry.” Then she falls unconscious.

He rushes to her, wrapping the nearby blanket around her small body, and carries her inside.

“Thank you,” he tells her, kissing her forehead once he has her settled on his couch.

He knows she probably can’t hear him, but it doesn’t seem to matter.

**-Seventh Full Moon-**

Gendry sleeps like the dead. When he wakes, it’s with flailing limbs and muttered curses, convinced he has overslept.

But he hasn’t. He sighs in relief when he sees the time and the pale gray light of predawn filtering in his window.

He no longer closes the curtains when it is the full moon.

Hells, he even leaves the door unlocked, just in case Arya tries to make in inside on her own. He even told her that, and she had cautioned him against it until he told her he trusted her to keep him safe from other werewolves.

When he heads outside, she is closer to the house than previously, so he wonders if she had tried. The blanket is in a haphazard swirl around her, so he thinks she likely tried to get as close as she could until her body literally collapsed in exhaustion.

He lifts her in his arms, cradling her small body to his. She actually stirs a little, curling into him, turning towards the warmth of his body, pressing her face into the curve of his neck. The weather has been growing colder over the past month or so, and this morning there is a light dusting of snow on the ground.

He carries her into the house, and this time, for reasons he cannot explain, he puts her in his bed, which is still warm from his body. She smiles in her sleep and hunches into the bedclothes, turning her face more deeply into his pillow before sighing and stilling.

It is then he realizes his scent must be really strong there. He briefly considers climbing in beside her but decides against it for multiple reasons, not the least of which being she is naked.

_Guideline 8: Do not pursue a romantic relationship with a known werewolf._

When Arya finally wakes, she doesn’t seem surprised to find herself in Gendry’s bed instead of his couch.

“Don’t freak out,” she says, taking the cup of tea he is holding out for her.

“Why would I choose now to start freaking out?” he asks, sitting on the bed with his mug.

“I did some research,” she tells him. “That’s what I do. I’m a research scientist. When I’m not a werewolf.”

“Very cool,” he replies. “I… well, I build and fix things,” he says, indicating the house around him. Now that it is basically done, he is quickly becoming _the_ handyman to call for the people living in the nearby towns.

“Yes, and you’re very good at it,” she observes.

“Thank you,” he says. “So why do you think I will freak out now?”

“You’re my mate,” she bluntly declares. “That’s what I learned. Me being drawn to your scent. The… mutual compulsion. The weird feeling in your chest when our eyes meet.”

“How do you know about that?” he asks in a hushed voice, his free hand unconsciously drifting to his chest, over his heart. She deliberately looks at him and he feels the aforementioned weird feeling.

“Because I feel it too,” she answers, taking his hand and bringing it to her chest, over her heart.

Gendry can feel Arya’s steady heartbeat, feel how it seems to speed up at his touch. She is modestly covered, the blanket tucked up under her arms, and just his fingertips are making contact with her skin, but her heart feels like it is racing.

“Fast,” he whispers, almost to himself.

“Well, that’s partly because I’m half your size,” she says, smiling at him as she sets her tea down. He begins to withdraw his hand, but she presses hers over it, keeping it there. “But it’s mostly due to you. Your proximity. Your touch.”

Her words are soft and almost shy, and he can’t help moving closer to her. He moves his hand again, and this time she lets him because he’s sliding it up, brushing his thumb along the pulse point on her neck as he draws her close enough so he can finally, _finally_ press his lips to hers.

He’s been wanting to for what feels like ages. He’s been dreaming about it (and more) almost every night.

The actual kiss is better than what his imagination could conjure, and in seconds her hands are pulling him closer, her mouth is opening under his.

She tastes like a cold, crisp winter day: one of those days where the sun is shining brightly but the air is frigid and everything sparkles with ice crystals, and he is lost. He starts leaning over her still more, but she pulls away before he can fully lay her back down on the bed.

“You’re not freaking out,” she comments, looking up at him with her silver-gray eyes. Her hair is in disorder and her lips are pink and kiss-swollen and he’s never seen her looking more beautiful.

“No, I’m not. I am… perfectly fine with being your mate. More than fine,” he says. He wants to kiss her again, but she stops him.

“Wolves mate for life,” she says, intending it to be a warning.

“Good,” he replies.

She stares at him, then says, “And you’re okay with me being… a werewolf?”

He shrugs. “It’s not like you can help it.” This time she lets him kiss her. This time he pulls away. “So what happens now?”

She sighs. “Well, as far as I know, we have two options. We could continue on like we have been—”

“I’d like to see you more than once a month,” he interjects. “Especially… given recent revelations and all.”

“Of course. I generally split my time between my apartment in Fairmarket and my uncle’s home in Riverrun. You’re right between both of those, so it’s not like it would be inconvenient,” she replies with a smile.

“I think we’ve already established how convenient my home is for you,” he teases, and she pokes him in the leg with her foot, still under the blankets. “What is the other option?”

She presses her lips together. “That’s the more difficult one.”

“Oh no.”

She puts her hand on his. “Not like that. It would just be harder for, like your family and stuff…”

“I don’t have any family,” he answers. “So what is it?”

“We… mate.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“No, like _truly_ mate.”

Gendry raises an eyebrow. “Do you mean like… we do it... when you’re in wolf form?”

Arya laughs, falling back on the pillows. “Gods, no!” she exclaims, wiping her eyes as she reaches for his hand again. She can’t reach him so he meets her halfway, then lets her pull him down beside her. “I have to bite you,” she whispers.

“You do?”

“And when I bite you…”

“I become a werewolf.”

“Yes.”

He is quiet for a few minutes, pondering this information. “Just out of curiosity, could we fuck without you biting me?”

She snorts a laugh. “Possibly?” she answers, like she’s not exactly sure. “I’m given to understand that the biting would be somewhat outside of my conscious control. So we totally could, but I wouldn’t be able to promise _not_ to bite you.”

“Kinky,” he dryly comments, prompting another sharp laugh from her, even as she smacks his arm and feigns insult.

“You don’t have to decide right away,” she says once they’ve stopped laughing.

“We both know I’ve already decided,” he replies, turning onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow to gaze down at her. “I think I’ve known for a while now what I would say if you ever asked me. Even though I’ve never consciously thought about it. Even though I didn’t know it was possible.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, reaching up with one hand to toy with the collar of the navy blue Henley shirt he is wearing.

When she slides her small, warm fingers inside, he groans. She turns her hand, grabs a fistful of shirt, and pulls him down over her.

“You ready?” she asks, her fingers running through his hair.

His eyes drift closed for a moment. Then he opens them and shifts his body so he can pull the blankets away from her. He leans down and kisses her lips, then her neck, then the swell of her breast. “More than.”

_Guideline 9: Do not let a werewolf turn you into another werewolf._

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so yeah this is another one where I only kept to the prompt in spirit and did my own thing.


End file.
